Shadowland
by Concave Patterns
Summary: The darkness brings with it memories both good and bad. Sesshomaru-centric, one shot.


My first Inuyasha fic. Hopefully I did Sesshomaru justice - he's one tricky guy to write. Reviews are appreciated :)

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The sun had disappeared.

Sesshomaru felt no discontent over this. In fact, he took great pleasure in the quiet, dark expanse of night. Under normal circumstances, it was a time of peace and reflection; a few short, precious hours of relief from Jaken's incessant squawking and the sweltering heat of the summer sun.

Tonight, however, that relief eluded the inuyoukai.

Seated against the trunk of a thick oak tree, he found his mind disobeying him; drawing him into memories he wished desperately to be rid of.

The twinkling lights above him, scattered throughout the velvety backdrop of the sky, were not stars. They were the bright, toothy grin of a young child as she proudly presented her lord with a bouquet of daisies, hand-picked from a nearby field.

The quiet hum that filled his sharp, attentive ears was not the buzz of bumblebees as they lazily travelled from flower to flower. It was the sweet, melodic voice of a teenaged girl as she busily set up camp for the night, singing soft little tunes where the words held no meaning.

The soft, humid air that brushed his skin and left his neck damp with sweat was not the breeze of a summer's night. It was the gentle, sure touch of a raven-haired woman as her lips brushed his neck; small breathy sighs of contentment escaping her lips every so often, leaving him weak. Weaker than he ever cared to admit because the feeling frightened him. To think that he, the great Lord of the Western Lands, succumbed to the touch of a human.

Acknowledging the fact that he needed her was perhaps his greatest struggle. More formidable than all his past confrontations with Naraku. More upsetting than every encounter with that loud-mouthed hanyou he was forced to call a half-brother.

Inuyasha.

If he were to see Sesshomaru now, what would he say? That he was a hypocrite for despising humans and yet welcoming one into his bed? That it was expected and he was fated to follow the same path as both Inuyasha and their father? Sesshomaru inwardly grimaced at the thought.

He did not believe in fate. His life was not pre-determined or decided for him. And yet, on nights like these, he could not help but consider his father's downfall and the prospect of destiny.

Perhaps the great Inutaisho had known his sons would be cursed with similar fates. The thought had presented itself in Sesshomaru's mind quite often as of late. Could it have been possible that his father bestowed Tenseiga upon him for that very reason?

Unconsciously, a clawed hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword.

Naturally, Inuyasha would require the extra strength of Tetsusaiga, a sword capable of killing one hundred demons in a single strike. And his mate, that miko from the future, possessed a fair amount of skill herself, Sesshsomaru supposed.

He could, albeit reluctantly, admit that the Toukijin suited his purposes just fine. After all, he was far more powerful and capable than that disgraceful half-breed. As for his Rin though...

He had trained her vigorously, perhaps even harshly, but she needed to learn. He could not allow her to be weak and she had risen to the challenge. It was not long before her strength and skill surpassed that of even the most talented taijiya.

But it wasn't enough.

Perhaps it was simply never meant to be. Tenseiga was the catalyst that first brought them together all those years ago. He never considered it possible that some day she would come to mean enough to him that he would desire to use that sword a second time.

Had it been a mistake to return her life when she had been nothing more than a grubby, human child collapsed on the forest floor?

No.

Sesshomaru did not make mistakes.

But still, in moments where his chest ached as it did now, he had to wonder: was it better to have loved and lost than to have never known love at all?

Love, a word that had never once crossed his lips and only recently began presenting itself in his mind. Yes, he was sure of it now: he had loved a human. He _still_ loved a human.

If only she was by his side to finally hear the words.

But then he thought of her eyes shining with happiness and trust or the sound of her slow and steady heartbeat as she snuggled against his mokomoko, and he knew.

He knew that even though he could not say the words aloud, Rin had known she was loved.

He could feel a dull ache settling in his head, a warning that his mind was buried far too deep in poignant memories that should be of no concern to a cold, heartless demon such as himself.

The youkai inhaled deeply in an attempt to clear his mind. He could detect the gentle scent of jasmine breezing through the open field and it did nothing to ease his unpleasant thoughts.

It had been a long and lonely 200 years without her and Sesshomaru suspected the next 200 would offer no improvement.

Warm, wet drops of water travelled down his face, marring the sharp demonic markings on his cheekbones.

Idly, he wondered when it had begun to rain. The great Lord of the Western Lands raised his face to the night sky, only to be met with a clear, cloudless expanse.

Yes, his sun had truly disappeared.


End file.
